Twilight: Too…tired…to argue…with Kage…today…
Kage: Oh, thank KAMI!
Twilight: Just do the damn disclaimer before I have you fixed…
Kage: She doesn't own anything except Yukari and unfortunately, me.
Chapter 3: The Awakening
Pain.
Yukari was used to pain; it was part of daily life.
Yet, she had never felt it to this extent.
The scroll had dissolved into the same black mist that accompanied her shadow type ki the very instant her blood had dripped onto the pitch-black paper, and streamed instantly, painfully, into her mouth, ears, and nose.
The silent torture went straight through Yukari's body, her brain processing it, neurons working overtime as it overloaded her system with agony. It felt like her whole body was being remade from the inside out. The fragile body that her soul inhabited was being painfully altered, and her mind remained alive and extremely alert of anything and everything happening around her.
Her body thrashed wildly, throbbing and suffering flowing through her as Yukari's inner organs modified themselves by some inner power, her abdomen feeling like she had swallowed an explosive tag. Her body involuntarily contracted into a tight ball, eyes overflowing with tears of agony. Her eyes themselves stung, itched, burned. Two red-hot daggers seemed to impale themselves on either side of her head simultaneously, as what felt like a blunt spear was jammed into her tailbone.
A scream of agonized torture shrieked from her lips as her body shuddered painfully at the assault on her spine. Her mouth was abruptly slammed shut, and vocal cords tightened by an overpowering instinct to keep quiet. Yukari's teeth, still clenched together, softened and reformed, her canine teeth growing larger and sharper.
A burst of pure inferno erupted from her body, igniting her into a new level of magnified agony. It was like being burnt, stabbed, crushed, ripped, torn, and shattered over and over again. She felt the pain from the daggers and spear go numb and cold, the weapons withdrawing.
The indescribable agony stopped as instantly as it had come.
The pain-broken girl shivered, skin, hair, and clothes soaking wet. What was it? Sweat, tears, blood? Yukari didn't know. All she knew what that her clothing was slicked against her tender body, squelching at each shudder she gave. But it didn't help that she felt pain with each shudder, the agony having left a piercing headache behind that seemed to cloud every thought, every memory.
"Ughn…ugh …ah-AH!…ughn…"
Where is that voice, those…moans of pain… coming from? Yukari wondered dreamily, before a burning pain in her throat brought her to a slow conclusion.
That ragged voice was coming from her mouth, scraping over her own abused throat… but it wasn't her. It didn't make any sense, but it definitely wasn't her. Yet, something in her denied it was some voice her imagination had wildly created. It was too real, too familiar for her to have simply created it in her mind.
Her body suddenly felt as if someone had gently and effortlessly pulled open her spirit, exposing her soul. A slow tinkling of pure essence streamed into her with the utmost care, surging through still-tender veins that weaved everywhere in her body.
It filled her soul to the brim with power. The same power, she swiftly realized, that had caused her that horrible pain, yet it wasn't raw and angry this time…it was gentle…almost remorseful.
It was clouded, dangerous…but it seemed to hold a dark purity… It was wild, dormant, but stirring, like a long-forgotten skill. It felt as though she was intensely linked to something dangerous, something predatory, but also something recognizable to her, like it had been there all along. Like she had been waiting all her life for it.
Her golden eyes glowed in the darkness of the shade as she slit them open to peer around. With a small jolt of surprise, Yukari realized that she had much better night vision than before, her vision sharper, clearer, so she opened her eyes a crack more.
She regretted it instantly.
The numb, dull ache she had been feeling escalated into a skull splitting headache, an iron rod cracking through her temples and into her fuzzy, pain-clouded brain. But she managed to get a look around through dark lashes heavy with tears of pain.
It was raining, and she now knew why she was soaking wet. It was slightly windy, making her body quiver even more in reaction, a small breeze crawling with icy cold fingers through her limp body. Her head was lying on the flat rock she had fallen onto as if it were a pillow.
Yukari grunted slightly, and winced when the effort almost tore her throat. Then winced again because the first wince had hurt, raw nerve endings screaming at her at the abuse.
Through the haze of pain and confusion, she felt a presence approaching her. A scent carried over the breeze, and it seemed natural for her to open her mouth slightly and let it drift over the roof of her mouth to better catch the smell, though she knew that no normal human would be able to pick up a scent trail.
But, to her numb astonishment, a dry, powdery scent reached her brain, along with the scent of sweat and fire…the scent of a human being, a female.
A dry, floury smell…wheat…a baker, probably. Yukari deduced sleepily, hearing a startled exclamation of the woman accompanied by hurried footsteps over to her. A worried voice, asking if she was all right. Yukari cracked open an eye, ignoring the pain to give the female a sarcastic look.
Meh, can't they ever come up with anything else to say? Her thought was fluttery as if she was light as a feather. She felt her eyes drift close; light-headedness took over the sensation of being feather-light and blackness seemed to prevail over her.
Kishiwa Midori was not a person that could be easily shaken. Looking at her, a woman around thirty years old, with a gentle-featured face, warm gray eyes, and easy fashion styles, she didn't look like someone who could stand up to much.
Appearances are deceiving.
Midori was actually very proficient in fighting with knives. And she didn't particularly trust her new…'guest.' For many very good reasons.
The land of Ametsuchi was not a very friendly place. Outcasts and missing-nin exiled from the five shinobi nations often came to Ametsuchi from the Land of Water, by means of trade boats. The Ametsuchi country's huge forests and herb-rich mountains generated most of the land's money. Therefore, the woods were teeming with dangerous exiled shinobi, bandits, and wild animals.
A girl around seventeen found unconscious by the side of a road leading to the newly-established Village Hidden in the Moon with extremely dark red hair, gold eyes, fangs, and an extremely wild feel to her has got to be cause for some suspicion. Not to mention the fact that she didn't have a hitai-ete on her, save for a few old scars and shallow cuts, yet was drenched in sweat and water. The girl's clothes were pretty damn filthy, patched up in threads of so many different colors it almost looked like needlepoint.
Which was why Midori brought the girl back to her home on her bakery cart and put her on a bed, and was currently watching the girl's unmoving face like a hawk watching a hapless rabbit.
She'd get some answers and figure out whether this girl was harmless and could be set free, or reported to the Tsukikage as a threat to the village-in-making.
Yukari's memories were fuzzy, incomplete, and indistinct. It was as if her mind was divided into two.
One side held names and information she'd never heard of before. The mind was dark and confused, but calm and seemed to be coping. Gentle security emanated from it, slowly spreading, as if to comfort in an apology of some kind.
Like the presence she had felt coming out of the scroll.
The thought seemed to smack Yukari behind her eyes, flashing white and printing the words into her brain. As soon as it fully registered, her body seemed to come alive, heart hammering fiercely.
Giving a violent start, Yukari shot into a sitting position from the bed she was on—and she knew it was a bed; she could feel the mattress shifting under her—panting harshly, feeling the breath rasp in an apparently still-tender throat. Closing her eyes and putting a hand on her chest, Yukari pulled in deep, soothing breaths to calm her racing heart.
"Oh, my…" A soft, cautious voice came from what seemed right beside her.
The unfamiliar voice caused an entirely expected reaction.
Yukari leapt, letting out a vicious snarl that would have been more appropriate coming out of the muzzle of a rabid dog than a rather short teenage girl, golden eyes narrowed and teeth bared, the enlarged canines blatantly obvious, even in the soft candlelight of the house.
But she didn't attack the owner of the voice.
Leaping for the ceiling, Yukari clung to the chandelier hanging from the ceiling with frantic hands, deftly swinging her legs up to balance lightly on the gently swinging light.
From her vantage point on the ceiling, Yukari craned her head around to observe her mysterious savior.
The woman was around the age of thirty at the oldest, twenty-six at the youngest, dressed in a sensible dark blue work kimono with a black, loose obi and the typical work sandals of the shinobi nations, though she had the dark skin of the Ametsuchi. Cautious yet warm stormy gray eyes blinked bemusedly up at the girl clinging to her ceiling, as the woman ran a nervous hand through her long hair, which was a dark shade of green tied with a floral bandana. Her other hand expertly held a sheathed battle knife.
"Oh, dear…I didn't mean to startle you." The woman said steadily, a sincere note in her voice. Shifting slowly and carefully, the woman set the knife on the bedside table.
With her hair hanging down in ropey strands from the sweat and water still drenching her hair, Yukari stared at the woman with eerie golden eyes, measuring her up.
Until this woman earned her respect, if not her trust, Yukari would be careful. She couldn't trust anyone, just yet.
Prepared for a display of shinobi skills Midori certainly was, but that animalistic snarl knocked all doubt from her mind. Tsukigakure did not have animal-based clans, just basic shinobi. This girl was an outsider.
And she was currently on Midori's ceiling, staring down at her with the unwavering, calculating gaze of an experienced shinobi. The girl's hair obscured some of her face, but it was obvious that the girl possessed a slightly lifted lip, revealing a rather sharp canine tooth as she stared directly at Midori with a curious, but blank expression.
Nervously, Midori spread her hands in a placating gesture.
"I'm sorry for startling you. What's your name?"
No response.
"What village are you from?"
Nothing.
"…" Midori sighed and looked down in a gesture of defeat. The girl's eyes didn't hold any malice, but they didn't even flicker at the baker's questions.
"Call me Yuurei (1)."
Midori blinked, quickly looking up at her. The girl's voice was husky and rough, with a rasping, feral quality to it. The blank look dissolved in the girl's curious golden eyes, replaced by warm friendliness and a large amount of careful suspicion. The grip on the chandelier had loosened as well, which was a relief for Midori, as she'd had to replace it when she'd gotten batter stuck to the lights.
'Phantom', huh? Midori smiled and bowed. "My name is Kishiwa Midori. You're in the Moon Village, and this is my house."
She spread her arms to indicate the room and pointed out the window next to the bed. "My bakery is over there, near the main road."
'Yuurei' tilted her head, closing her eyes in contemplation as she dropped down from the ceiling, back flipping to land on her feet on the bed. She plopped down placidly and bowed her head in thanks.
Then she seemed to fall into a contemplative silence, her head bent forward so her hair shadowed her eyes. Midori slowly backed up until she was right next to the door, intending to leave the girl to her thoughts. She reached for the handle of the shoji (sliding door), but stopped as a thought stuck her. A quick glance at Yuurei's faintly spasming arm muscles solidified her conclusion. They were holding up the girl's upper body as she leant forward, but they were weakening rapidly, tiny tremors running through the muscles of her biceps.
"Would you like some green tea, maybe some onigiri?" Midori questioned softly, her hand on the lever of the door. "You look like you could use some food."
Yuurei's eyes flickered, surprised at the baker's kindness, and then slowly softened to a not so suspicious look. "That would be appreciated, uh…Midori…arigato."
Midori smiled, sliding the door opening and exiting, sliding it shut quietly behind her.
This girl didn't mean to cause any harm to her village.
As Midori left, Yukari slumped backward exhaustedly into the pillows, strength gone, before squirming uncomfortably as she felt the grime against her skin of the combination of dirt, sweat, and blood that had soaked into the cloak and loose pants she was still wearing.
Why the hell did I ask her to call me by my nickname?! I HATE that nickname!
Scowling slightly, Yukari forced her protesting body into a sitting position, which was surprisingly difficult; she wasn't in excruciating pain anymore, but her muscles felt like liquid lead.
She then proceeded to strip off her clothes, dumping them on the floor next to the bed. Looking over her toned, naked body, she scowled, searching her skin. It felt like there was something…odd. Yukari's eyes raked over her own body. But nothing seemed out of place.
Her breasts seemed normal, a healthy C-cup, dark flesh peaked into soft, pink nipples that were neither too big nor too small, her chest unmarked of scars. But somehow she knew there was something wrong. Glancing lower, Yukari eyed her well-muscled legs. She didn't see anything strange.
Yukari let out a soft sigh and dragged her hand down her face, but abruptly froze when her hand brushed something on her neck.
She craned her head down enough to see a strange choker. The band that went around her neck was simple black leather, and the charm hanging from it was equally simple, the symbol for Yin and Yang.
Alarmed by this new development, she curled her fingers around the warm, almost hot to the touch charm, about to yank it off her neck. As she attempted to yank, a bewildered, hurt whimper resounded from the back of her mind. Something about that whimper caused Yukari's panic to die and her fingers to slowly uncurl from the choker.
Still slightly disturbed, Yukari put it out of her mind and resolved never to touch it again.
Hmm…might as well check my surroundings while I'm at it. Yukari though, silently berating herself for only now doing what she should've done before anything else.
Taking a deep breath, she let her ki extend, searching for any hostile ki, probing deeply to find anyone who was experienced enough to mask their emotions. She brushed over Midori's warm, friendly ki, who was in the kitchen, judging by the strengthening smell of cooking onigiri.
Yukari's stomach complained violently, rumbling out its hunger obnoxiously. She ignored it, giving the surrounding area one last sweep before settling back against the pillow, ignoring the grime still layered onto her skin with the ease of long practice.
The room was cozy, the floor covered with a soft-looking rug in sensible earth tones, and the walls painted a nice shade of creamy white with wallpaper covering the ceiling that looked like the night sky. Two small, dimmed lanterns hung around the room, one near where she laid and the other by the door. The bed was the only piece of furniture in the room other than the slightly dusty bedside table.
Yukari heard light footsteps and turned her head to the door. Midori slid the door open with her elbow and walked inside, her gray eyes tilted downward so she wouldn't spill the onigiri.
"Here's some food for you, Yuurei-san." She said satisfactorily, setting the plate of onigiri down with a clink.
"Arigato." Yukari mumbled absentmindedly, taking the plate and breaking the chopsticks cleanly in half. "Itadakimasu."
Midori smiled, but it quickly turned into an embarrassed grin as she noticed that the eating young woman was stark nude. The redhead didn't even seem aware of Midori's discomfort as she bolted the food, her breasts bouncing slightly every time her chopsticks were raised to her mouth…
"Yuurei-san! Why are you naked?!" Midori shrieked, finally unable to take it anymore after about a minute or two of silence on Yukari's part and restless fidgeting on hers. Yukari blinked up at her with confused golden eyes, resting her empty plate on her lap.
"Because I felt grimy and wanted to check for wounds." She explained simply, smiling slightly. "Why did you yell?"
"It's…it's…but—but—it…" The green-haired baker stammered a bit before finally giving up. The girl didn't seem to understand the concept of modesty.
Yukari, interest lost, leaned against the headboard lazily, scratching some grime off her skin with a fingernail. This disgusting action knocked the older woman out of her shocked stupor, realizing just how dirty the girl was. Midori's motherly instincts kicked in at the sight of a small girl barely five and a half feet tall covered with filth and looking adorably sleepy, if you totally overlooked the fact that she was seventeen.
Yukari didn't have a chance.
Midori suddenly seemed to have somehow gotten the speed of a jounin in 0.000000000½ seconds and had gained the strength of a pissed off Akimichi in the process, scooping up the shocked redhead ki-user and speeding through the house in a blur, before Yukari was abruptly tossed into a tub of hot water and proceeded to get a scrub down that would probably be more suited to a horse.
Yukari's sailor-worthy swearing and eventual begging for mercy went unacknowledged.
(1) It means 'ghost' but I prefer 'phantom.'